


No Place Like Home

by Aini_NuFire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Charlie Bradbury, Castiel & Charlie Bradbury Friendship, Charlie Lives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Charlie, Post-Episode: s11e14 The Vessel, Season/Series 11, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Two Shot, Why can't they all just talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6315265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU season 11 two-shot where Charlie lives, and she’s determined to help the Winchesters save Cas from Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’ve written another season 11, save!Cas, fix-it. This is for electrons on ff.net, because we both miss Charlie, and if she were still alive, she wouldn’t have let Cas get so low as to say yes to Lucifer.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. And if by some chance any of the myriad ways I write Casifer resolutions ends up actually happening, it’s pure coincidence. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!

 

 

Ever since she'd met the Winchesters, Charlie's life had been better—and worse. Better because Sam and Dean were like her brothers and she loved them. Better because a fantastical world she'd only LARPed and pretended to be a hero in turned out to be real, and she could be a noble champion like she'd always dreamed of.

…Worse, because pain, blood, and death followed the Winchesters like a plague. Charlie wasn't immune, not once she'd immersed herself in their world. There'd been her whacked out, non-human boss, the fear djinn, her trip to Oz and the war there. There'd been tracking down the Book of the Damned and getting shot for it. Those were just the physical hurts. There was also the heartbreaking, crushing pain of watching Dean slowly succumb to the Mark. It's what had made Charlie sign on for Sam's crazy plan, even though it was behind Dean's back. "For Dean," they had all said—her, Sam, and Castiel.

Love made them do stupid things.

Like sneaking out to an unprotected motel. Charlie knew the moment the banging started on her door that she had made a fatal mistake. Dean, on the other end of the phone line, begged her to hand over whatever the Stynes wanted. But she couldn't do it.

After uploading the files and smashing her laptop, then drawing her short sword, Charlie hadn't expected to face down utter evil again after that night.

Yet she'd somehow survived. Beaten, sliced up, and left for dead, Charlie nevertheless found herself waking in a hospital bed sometime later. She remembered little of that first foray into consciousness, except maybe asking if an angel had healed her. That had to be what happened. Castiel brought her back from the dead.

The nurse had smiled and said Charlie's brothers had brought her in. But when Charlie asked where Sam and Dean were, the nurse's expression had turned sympathetic, and some heavy duty pain medication must have followed soon after.

Charlie only later learned that Dean had snapped. The attack on her had caused him to go after the Stynes, to fully embrace the rage and bloodlust of the Mark. Sam was…still desperately trying to find a cure.

Castiel had been the one to tell her all this when he'd finally come to see her. With a sad smile that left his eyes hollow, he'd placed two fingers to her forehead, easing some of her pain.

"I'm sorry," he'd said, sounding heartbroken. "I can't heal you all the way."

Charlie had noticed he seemed to be holding himself extra stiffly, one arm wrapped almost protectively across his ribs.

She'd smiled weakly, yet encouragingly, at him. "I cracked the code."

Castiel had nodded, and moved his hand to settle on the top of her head. "You did good, Charlie. Just rest now. We'll save Dean." His voice had hitched at the end, but once again the pain meds were making her sleepy, and the next time she woke, Castiel was gone.

Charlie didn't hear from the Winchesters for a while, until finally Sam called to tell her Dean was free of the Mark, but something called the Darkness had been unleashed. He told her to get better quickly, because they'd need her help researching. But it sounded forced. And the truth was, just thinking about going back to…all that, made her sweaty and nauseous.

So she'd done what she did best, and disappeared off the grid. If the world was ending, it didn't really look like it, so Charlie was able to bury herself in freelance programming jobs or waste whole days away playing Moondoor online. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she was probably suffering from a form of PTSD, and it'd probably be a good idea to get help. But who would she talk to?

'So, I got stabbed multiple times by this sadist descendent of Dr. Frankenstein. And before that I'd been split into two separate people, one good, one bad.'

Yeah, no.

But…she was good at pretending, and ended up joining a support group for survivors of trauma. And even though she couldn't share _everything_ , the therapy…helped. What she was feeling, lots of others had experienced, too. The more Charlie learned, the more she started analyzing the Winchesters, figuring they could use a good dose of talking things out as well. Not that they'd ever go for it. But thinking about them made Charlie miss Sam and Dean and Castiel. She missed the home she'd had with them.

She started checking her old email inboxes on occasion. There were a few messages from Dean, dated months ago when Charlie had first left. They mostly consisted of Dean apologizing for her getting hurt, saying he understood why she left, and that he just hoped she was okay. Charlie couldn't bring herself to respond.

But then, a few more months later, she saw a new message from Dean saying that Lucifer had escaped the Cage and was riding around in Cas.

…Charlie didn't even know where to _begin_. She surged from her chair, already mentally running through a checklist of things she had to pack. Then the panic flared up. Could she go back? Was she ready? Her hands started to tremble, pulse racing. She recognized the symptoms and concentrated on taking deep breaths. Her family needed her; of course she had to go back.

Pulling up in front of the bunker and knocking on the door left her more jittery than she cared to admit, and when the door swung open to reveal Dean, she gave him an embarrassed smile, apologies rehearsed on the trip ready to leave her lips.

But Dean scooped her up into a bone-crushing hug. "Hey, kiddo," he whispered in her ear, sounding choked up.

"Hey," she squeaked back.

Then Sam appeared, looking hesitant as he held his arms out for a hug, too. Charlie didn't feel a single instance of doubt, and threw herself into his embrace. He lifted her off the ground for a brief second.

"How are you doing?" he asked after setting her back down.

She nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay. Better than you guys, it seems."

The looks on the brothers' faces nearly broke her heart, and Charlie found herself slipping back into her old self with ease, pulling out her laptop when they got downstairs and asking for a full run-down on everything that had happened. The whole story about the Darkness, and Castiel giving the Devil _permission_ to possess him, gave her a few hiccups along the way, but while the fear simmered under the surface, Charlie found herself mustering the determination to meet this fight head-on.

"For Castiel," she declared, drawing her shoulders back.

Sam's eyes glistened with emotion, no doubt remembering their last rally. "For Cas," he said.

Dean glanced between them, unaware of how this had played out only months ago for him. "For Cas," he agreed. And they got down to business.

But, just like with the Mark, they were coming up empty. Eventually, the Winchesters got word of Amara, so they took off to check it out while Charlie stayed behind to continue scouring the Men of Letters archive. That must have been what Lucifer was waiting for—Sam and Dean to leave. Charlie had no idea how he figured out a way around the warding, but the next thing she knew, the front door had blown open, and Charlie was once again confronted with one of the greatest evils of all time, wearing the mask of a beloved face.

Castiel—no, _Lucifer_ —slowed his descent down the steps and cocked his head curiously when he spotted her. "And what do we have here? I didn't realize the Winchesters had gotten a new pet."

Charlie took a nervous step back for each one he advanced.

"Makes sense they'd replace Castiel," the Devil remarked blithely, running his gaze up and down her. It was frighteningly eerie how alien everything about this imposter was, despite the superficial appearance resembling her friend. "Ah, there's the memory. Charlie Bradbury. Last anyone knew, you'd disappeared."

She swallowed hard. "Well, I'm back now."

"Hm, not for much longer, I think." His face split into a wicked grin that sent chills down her spine. "I was planning to just slip in and out unnoticed," Lucifer continued, swaggering closer. Charlie sidestepped to keep one of the tables between them. "But I think leaving your disemboweled corpse for the Winchesters to find will be much more fun."

She turned and bolted for the back hallway, slippered feet slapping across the concrete floors as she barreled down corridors in search of a place to hide. She nearly lost her balance and slammed into a corner wall trying to get her phone out of her pocket. Pulling up Dean's number also wasn't easy while running for her life.

" _Hey, Charlie,_ " Dean answered.

"Dean! He's here, Lucifer's here!"

" _What?_ "

"I don't know how he got past the wards, but he's in the bunker." She threw a look over her shoulder. The Devil wasn't on her immediate tail, but he could play cat and mouse with her all day if he wanted.

" _Use the banishing sigil!_ " Dean shouted.

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, threatening to explode right out of her chest. It was too similar…the bunker walls the same color as the motel bathroom, Dean's muffled voice screaming at her desperately over the phone.

" _Charlie!_ "

She skidded into one of the artifact rooms and slammed the door. Looking around frantically, she grabbed a samurai sword off a crate, and went to duck down behind some rolling shelf units. "I…I can't remember what the sigil looks like."

She'd learned it, of course she'd learned it. But she'd never actually used it before, and her brain wasn't working right.

" _Sam's texting you a picture and it's gotta be in blood,_ " Dean rushed out. " _Just do it, okay?_ _We're on our way._ "

They were at least a couple hours from the bunker, but if she managed to use the sigil… Her phone pinged with a multimedia message, and Charlie tapped the thumbnail to enlarge the photo. She looked from the sword she was holding to her forearm, gorge rising at the memory of her own blood spilling out of her body. She couldn't do this. She was going to die. Or worse.

Would Castiel see Lucifer kill her with his hands? That thought almost made her throw up too, and Charlie tossed the sword away. It clattered across the floor, making her wince and throw a panicked look at the closed door. She needed somewhere else to hide, somewhere Lucifer couldn't get to…

Eyes widening, Charlie jumped to her feet, phone forgotten. She knew _exactly_ where she could hide. But the key was in another storage room.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and her chest hitched on the verge of hyperventilating as she slowly approached the door. What if she opened it and Lucifer was standing on the other side? But if she stayed put, he'd eventually find her. She had to chance it.

Cracking the door, Charlie peeked out into the hall. It was clear. She inched out, padding softly across the floor as she ducked down another corridor toward the room she needed. She froze as Castiel's voice echoed through the halls, too high-pitched, too taunting.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."

Charlie quickened her pace, and made it into the storage room unhindered. She tore through boxes, trying to be both quick and quiet—two feats that did not go well together. Where was it? She'd been with Dean when they'd filed the key away for safe keeping.

She knocked over a box, scattering its contents in a raucous clatter. Her heart stuttered and tears of panic pricked the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision to the point she almost missed the key that had fallen out of the box. Charlie snatched it up and whirled toward the door. Blood was roaring so loudly in her ears, she couldn't hope to hear whether Lucifer was just outside or not.

All she had to do was get the key in the lock before he found her.

Yet just as she lifted it to the hole, Charlie hesitated. Her brain, which had been muddled with fear and terror, suddenly had a flash of clarity. She couldn't run like this. What if Sam and Dean got back while Lucifer was still here? They could be killed. And Castiel…if it was his hands under the Devil's control that hurt the Winchesters, it would destroy him. Charlie could lose every last member of her family in one fell swoop.

Her knuckles whitened around the key, its edges digging into her palm. But what could she do against _Lucifer_ , practically the epitome of evil?

Wait… She glanced down at the key in her hand. Could that actually work? Given past experience, Charlie knew on an intellectual level that it was a monumentally stupid idea. But here in the moment, with few choices and the lives of those she loved on the line, she was willing to take the risk.

Before she could chicken out, Charlie yanked the door open, only to let out an undignified squeal when she found Lucifer on the other side.

He quirked his lips. "There you are."

Charlie tried to recoil back a step, but the Devil was faster, and he lashed a hand out to grab her throat and squeeze. A startled gasp gushed out, and Charlie frantically clawed at the unrelenting arm. Lucifer lifted her a fraction so that her toes scrambled desperately at the floor.

Lucifer grinned. "Poor little kitten got snatched by the big bad wolf." He tutted. "Sam and Dean really should take better care of their pets."

Charlie mustered the courage to glare at him. If she truly was going to die here, it'd be with claws out and scratching. Working her other arm up, she shoved the key against his chest.

Lucifer glanced down in mild amusement. "That's not even the pointy end."

But then his expression shifted to confusion, and his grip on Charlie's throat loosened. Black spots flitted across her vision, but she saw when the key began to glow. Lucifer reacted, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around the device, Charlie wrenched herself away. She staggered back into some boxes, nearly doubling over as she gasped in oxygen.

Lucifer was staring at the key in curiosity. "What kind of power is this?" He tugged his arm as though to lift the key up for closer inspection, but frowned when it didn't budge. Charlie knew what came next. Anchored to an essence, the key had begun to dissect it, separating out the good and bad.

Wisps of blue plasma began swirling out from Lucifer's body. His face twisted in alarm and rage, and he had just enough time to shoot Charlie a murderous glare before the crackling light engulfed him in a haze. Then the pulsing aura began to blur and seep out to the sides, until they'd completely separated, and Charlie now found herself facing _two_ identical Castiels. Or, she really hoped, one Castiel, one Lucifer.

The Castiel on the right staggered and blinked dazedly, while the one on the left glanced back and forth between them in stunned disbelief. Charlie really hoped she hadn't just made everything colossally worse.

"Well…" the one on the left said—definitely Lucifer. He raised one hand to examine it, then looked at the key in his other hand. "This is interesting."

Lucifer angled his gaze to the other Castiel—hopefully the real one—who still appeared disoriented. A grin cracked the Devil's face, and without warning, he gripped Castiel by his shirt front and threw him into the storage shelves. Metal buckled and clattered under the force as boxes rained down to bury Cas. Charlie flinched.

Lucifer turned toward her. _Oh crap_.

She let out a small squeak as she backed up.

Lucifer sauntered forward casually. "Now where did you get this?" he asked, twirling the key in his hand.

"Um…"

"You know I'm _trying_ to help here, don't you?" Lucifer sighed in exasperation. "Who else is gonna defeat the Darkness? Now this," he paused and held up the key again, "is magic I've never seen before. So…"

Charlie's back hit the wall, and Lucifer closed the distance, trapping her. He leaned his face down toward hers, stopping mere centimeters away.

"Tell me where you got it," Lucifer commanded softly.

Charlie's stomach lurched, her heart rate palpitating at an unhealthy speed. "O-Oz," she stammered.

Lucifer's brow creased. "Oz? Never heard of it."

"It's another world. You-you need a portal." Dammit, what was she doing? She couldn't unleash the _Devil_ on an unsuspecting Oz, on Dorothy. She flicked a glance toward the broken shelves, but Castiel had yet to get up.

"Interesting," Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, gaze dropping to the key again. "I suppose this might open said portal?"

Charlie swallowed hard. This wasn't what she'd had in mind at all.

Lucifer leaned back a fraction. "So, where do I find this portal?"

Every nerve fiber in her body was screaming at her to answer, because it remembered what happened when she defied a monster. So she clamped her jaw shut and shook her head, more to herself than to him. She would _not_ fall apart. This was what it meant to fight on the side of good—sometimes it required sacrifice.

Lucifer sighed dramatically, and then like a cobra, lashed out to grab her arm and crank it back. Bone snapped and Charlie screamed. Her knees buckled and she dropped, tears spilling down her cheeks as Lucifer held her up by her broken arm. _Not again, not again_.

"Come on," Lucifer crooned. "It's rude to keep secrets."

Charlie let out a choked sob. "Any door." _I'm sorry, Dorothy_.

Lucifer released her arm, and she jerked it close to her body protectively. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And since you were so helpful, I'll be nice and give you a quick death. How's that sound?"

He raised a hand, fingers poised to snap. Charlie closed her eyes.

There was a scuffle from her right and a shout. Charlie's eyes flew open again in time to see Castiel tackle Lucifer, driving them both to the floor. They rolled, exchanging a few punches, and Charlie had no idea which was which anymore. She vaguely recalled the shape of the banishing sigil now, though if she used it, she'd banish Castiel too.

As the fight continued, Charlie began to be able to distinguish between the two: Castiel was slagging, his blows forceful but just a fraction slower than Lucifer's. Then the Devil gained the upper hand, landing punch after punch that drove Castiel to his knees, blood streaming from a variety of cuts on his face. Lucifer had one hand clamped on the other angel's shoulder, holding him up as Castiel swayed.

"I should kill you, Castiel." He paused, canting his head in consideration. "But I know leaving you alive will be an even worse torment for you."

Lucifer glanced at Charlie, who pressed herself harder against the wall, fighting back a whimper. The Devil merely smirked, shoved Castiel to the floor, and turned toward the door. He casually closed it, inserted the key, and then opened it again. Through the frame, the glittering realm of Oz shone, radiant sunlight spilling over the threshold to light the dingy storeroom.

Lucifer tossed a look over his shoulder. "Give Sam and Dean my regards." With that, he strode through the portal, taking the key and shutting the door behind him.

Charlie sagged. What had she done?

Her gaze drifted to Castiel, still lying on the floor. Grunting from the pain, she started crawling toward him. "Castiel?"

He lolled his head toward her, eyes clouded with anguish and confusion. "I don't understand," he rasped. "How did you…?"

"Um, I kinda went through this phase where Good-Me and Bad-Me were split into two people. And I thought…well, since Lucifer is evil and you're good, the key might separate you two." She gave him a half-guilty shrug. "It worked, right? I mean, it didn't split pieces of both of you into each other? Because I'm pretty sure there isn't a nice bone in the Devil's body." She was rambling, as she often did when her nerves were frayed.

Castiel frowned, gaze turning inward. "No. There's…there's no Lucifer."

Charlie let out a breath of relief. "That's good."

Castiel pushed himself up onto his elbows, expression darkening. "You're hurt."

She glanced at her broken arm. If she didn't move it, she could pretend the pain wasn't so bad. Talking also kinda hurt, and she figured she'd have finger-shaped bruises on her neck. Best to avoid mirrors if she didn't want to trigger a flashback…

"Charlie, I'm so sorry." Castiel reached two fingers toward her forehead. She thought she knew what to expect from the other times he had healed her, but there was no instantaneous dissolving of pain. She felt a tendril of warm energy seep into her skin and trickle down to her bruised throat, then her broken arm. She bit back a yelp when the bone fused back together, as though it'd been done manually. Only then did the pain recede.

Castiel collapsed.

"Cas!" Charlie gripped his shoulders and gave him a small shake. When he didn't rouse, her pulse started spiking again. What should she do? She looked around desperately before turning back to the angel and patting his cheek. "Come on, Castiel. Wake up."

He didn't. Sam and Dean would know what to do, but it'd be hours before they got back. Castiel was too heavy for Charlie to move on her own, and there was no way she was leaving him down here alone. Scooting closer, she lifted his head to pillow in her lap, and prayed the Winchesters would be back before Lucifer.


	2. Part Two

Sometime later, Charlie couldn't say how long, though her legs had grown numb, she heard distant voices shouting.

"Charlie!"

"In—" she started weakly, and stopped to clear her throat. "In here!"

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and then Sam and Dean were charging into the room, angel blades in hand. They both skidded to a stop and gaped at her and Castiel.

"Charlie?" Dean questioned guardedly.

"It's Castiel," she assured them.

Dean exchanged a bewildered look with Sam, whose throat bobbed nervously. "Did he cast Lucifer out?"

"Uh, not exactly. I used the Oz key on them. It separated the two, made an exact copy of Castiel's body with Lucifer in it."

The brothers' brows shot upward, both of their mouths sputtering over words. "Charlie, what—" "Are you insane?"

"I didn't exactly have many options when the Devil was chasing me through the bunker," she retorted, but then forced herself to take a deep breath. "Look, we got Castiel back."

Dean and Sam cast suspicious glances at the unconscious angel. The injuries Castiel had gotten in the fight were sluggishly healing, but he still looked battered and bruised.

"Doesn't that mean this is Good-Cas-Good-Lucifer?" Dean asked.

Charlie gave him a wry look, and even Sam snorted.

"Not sure there is such thing as 'Good-Lucifer,'" the younger Winchester said.

"Okay, fine," Dean conceded. "But Cas ain't exactly perfect. If part of him is still with the Devil, then that's a problem."

"It's a problem we can deal with later," Charlie interrupted. "We've been on the floor here for a few hours; can you please help get him to a proper room?"

That spurred the Winchesters out of their stupor, and Sam hauled Castiel up into a fireman's carry before heading out of the storage room. Dean grabbed Charlie's arm and helped her stand, supporting her as she took a moment to stamp feeling back into her legs.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "Lucifer didn't hurt you?"

Charlie hesitated. "Um. Castiel healed me." And apparently hurt himself doing it, too.

A muscle in Dean's jaw ticked. Stepping back, he ran a hand down his face. "God, I am so sorry, Charlie. I never meant…I thought you'd be safe here." He turned away. "I never would've asked you to come back if—"

"Hey, I chose to come back." And she didn't regret it. Okay, maybe she'd made things more complicated, and caused a boatload of trouble for Dorothy in Oz, but if she'd managed to save Castiel from being possessed, well, at least it was a win.

Dean shook his head, but finally looked back at her. "Are you all right?"

Charlie nodded slowly. She was still a bit shaken, but yeah, she was all right. "Do you think Castiel is…?" From what she knew about angels, they were neither supposed to take so long to heal, nor spend time completely unconscious.

Dean's eyes hardened. "Dunno, but why don't you come tell us the whole story."

He led the way upstairs where they met up with Sam in one of the dormitory rooms. Castiel had been laid on the bed, and Sam was looking at him intently. Dean excused himself, and came back a minute later with a first aid kit. While he cleaned Cas up, Charlie sat in a chair and told them everything that had happened, including how she'd given up the information about accessing Oz.

"You did the right thing," Dean said sharply.

She shook her head. "But Dorothy…"

"Lucifer's just looking for a weapon to use against Amara," Sam put in. "He might not do anything to Oz."

"He could set himself up as the new wizard," Charlie argued. "Why come back here when he can be king there?"

Dean shook his head. "She's got a point." Though he didn't sound as concerned about it.

Sam's mouth thinned into a contemplative line. "I dunno. Yeah, Lucifer wants to rule, but…it's personal. I've been in his head, and his whole complex centers around what God did with this world and humans." He fell quiet for a moment before saying in a lower voice, "I think he'll be back."

"Awesome," Dean muttered. He flicked a glance at the unconscious angel again, as he'd been doing periodically throughout the discussion. Charlie could tell he was worried, but he was also angry.

"Go easy on him, Dean," she said softly.

He stiffened. "Go easy on him? He said yes to the friggin' Devil!" Dean pivoted and started to pace. "He should know better by now."

"I do," a frail voice spoke up from the bed.

The three of them whirled toward it just as Castiel's eyelids fluttered open to stare at the ceiling. Neither Winchester made a move to approach, so Charlie rolled her eyes and rushed to the side of the bed, easing onto the mattress next to the angel.

"Castiel? Are you okay?"

His gaze didn't shift, and it was a prolonged beat before he answered. "I'm alive."

Charlie frowned at his defeated tone. "Yeah, and you're back with us," she said cheerily.

Castiel finally looked at her. "You came back," he breathed, a ghost of familiar tenderness in his eyes.

"I had to," she replied. "Someone kidnapped my favorite angel."

Haunted pain shadowed Castiel's expression, and he lifted one hand to the side of her face. "I hurt you."

She felt a whisper of grace try to reach out, and quickly reached up to take his hand away before Castiel could weaken himself further—his own bruises hadn't fully healed yet. " _You_ didn't. And you already healed me up, good as new." Charlie squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Castiel looked over at Dean then. "I knew what I was doing," he said, voice more gravelly than usual. "Lucifer is the only one who stands a chance against the Darkness."

Dean crossed his arms. "Did you even think of the consequences?"

"Yes. If Lucifer was unable to defeat the Darkness and she destroyed him instead, nothing would be lost. If he did defeat her, then I had every faith that you and Sam would be able to destroy him."

The tension in the air increased tenfold, and Dean's furious gaze could have sent sparks showering to the floor.

"Is that it?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.

Charlie shifted on the bed nervously. Without the Mark, she didn't really expect Dean to lose it like he had before, but then, he also looked as angry as he had then.

Castiel's gaze flicked to her and Sam, face pinching in anguished remorse. "I know…I nearly destroyed things again. I'd hoped Lucifer would leave you alone. He was pretending to be me, and I thought he would keep it up…Sam, Charlie, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt."

"We know, Cas," Sam said quietly.

"How about the consequence of you dying?" Dean snapped. "If Amara killed Lucifer, ' _nothing_ would be lost'? What the hell is wrong with you?" His volume had risen incrementally with each word until he was yelling.

Charlie bit at her bottom lip, unable to hold back a slight wince.

Dean must have noticed, because he let out a long breath, and his next words were softer. "Sorry, kiddo."

She nodded, then glanced back at Castiel, who just looked…sad. Weary.

"I'm not strong enough to help you anymore," the angel said. "But Lucifer is. You…you need him more than you do me. And I…I wanted to be of service. One last time."

"Without caring how Sam and I would feel about it?"

Castiel sighed, gaze returning to the ceiling. "You would get over it."

Charlie stiffened at that, and braced for the inevitable implosion.

"Excuse me?" Dean exploded, storming forward to loom over the prone angel. "You think Sam and me would just 'get over' you dying? As though it meant nothing?"

"It doesn't," Castiel insisted. "I'm no longer any use to you."

"Like that matters!"

"It's always mattered. I have always come when you called, no matter what. Because I…" He gave himself a sharp shake, squeezing his eyes shut in a moment of grief. "I was wrong, Dean. I am and have always been a hammer, a tool. That was my purpose since the day I was created." Castiel turned sad eyes back toward the Winchesters. "But tools eventually rust and break."

Silence fell over the room, a palpable throb of misery pervading the very air.

" _Cas_ ," Sam sputtered. "You can't think…"

Dean snorted and shook his head, still fuming. "I thought you were stupid for letting Lucifer in, but this, this really makes you a dumb-ass."

Charlie pushed down her own inner turmoil and surged to her feet. "Alright, that's enough." She jabbed a finger at Dean's chest to push him back a step. "You know what I learned these past several months? We're all broken in some way or another. But when we hold each other up, we find the strength to keep going. And all our broken pieces together can make a beautiful mosaic."

Dean lifted his brows at her.

She shrugged one shoulder. "I got that from therapy."

"Therapy?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah. 'Cause picking myself up after the Stynes…was hard." Charlie swallowed against a lump forming in her throat. "But I did it. My one regret, though, was not letting my family help."

Dean's expression immediately softened, and he reached out a comforting hand. "We would've. You know that, right?"

Charlie nodded, eyes moistening. "I do. But there's another member of this family who needs us right now." She cast a meaningful glance at Sam and Dean before finally looking at Castiel. The angel wasn't even paying attention to them anymore, but was staring morosely at the ceiling. It struck Charlie then how _human_ Castiel was, how much he had changed since the events she'd read about in the _Supernatural_ books.

"I know you hate 'chick-flick moments,' Dean," she said. "But keeping things bottled up doesn't make them go away. It just leaves us to drown alone." She paused. "Even an angel."

She shared an imploring look with both brothers before the three of them glanced at Castiel.

Letting out a heavy breath, Dean ran a hand through his hair, then slowly nudged past Charlie to sit on the edge of the bed. "Cas?"

Castiel's gaze shifted.

Dean opened his mouth, hesitated, and then shook his head. "I don't get it, man. I don't understand how after _everything_ , you don't get that you're family to me and Sam."

"And me," Charlie piped up. She figured they'd graduated from besties by this point.

Castiel just stared at Dean. "'Everything' being the Purgatory souls, Sam's wall, the Angel Tablet, casting the angels out of Heaven—"

"That's all water under the bridge, Cas!" Dean interrupted. "And I'm talking about the three of us stopping the Apocalypse. Team Free Will. And me spending _months_ searching for you in Purgatory because I refused to leave you there, even after your mess with the Leviathans. I'm talking about the three of us going on hunts together, of you giving up your angel army so the three of _us_ could defeat Metatron. Of standing in this very bunker and not fighting back when I beat you to a bloody pulp and almost killed you!"

Dean blanched, and shot a horrified look at Sam and Charlie. Charlie was stunned, certainly, but apparently so was Sam.

Dean reached up to cover his mouth. "Shit."

Castiel's voice came out quiet, "I never blamed you for that, Dean."

The older Winchester let out a long, low exhale. "Yeah, well, I don't blame you for saying yes to Lucifer."

Castiel blinked in surprise.

"You were trying to do the right thing," Dean went on. "What you thought was the right thing. I've been there. Sam's been there."

Sam nodded from behind Dean.

Charlie raised her hand. "Uh, me too. Remember the whole split personalities thing? I thought I needed to do that to win the war in Oz. Boy, did it backfire."

Sam's lips twitched, and even Dean's mouth quirked, but then they both sobered.

"Speaking of which," Sam spoke up. "That key was supposed to split a person like Yin and Yang, and the two halves were linked so that if something happened to one, it happened to the other." He flicked a nervous glance at Charlie and Dean, obviously uncomfortable about dredging up that memory.

Charlie was too busy feeling a surge of guilt to be upset by it, though. Crap, what if she hadn't fully freed Castiel from Lucifer?

Castiel shook his head, and finally pushed himself up into a sitting position. "It apparently works differently on angels. I…I wish I could say that key removed all the pieces that always lead me to do wrong, to do bad. But I'm still me."

"Hey," Charlie interjected. "All those pieces, even the not-so-good ones, are important. They help make us who we are."

"I'm afraid there's not much left of me," Castiel sighed.

"That's not true," she protested vehemently. "I kinda felt that way…after, you know."

Talking about it had gotten easier over time, but that had been among strangers, and for some reason saying these things in front of Sam and Dean made her uncomfortable. She wasn't the only one who'd suffered from that event.

"But it gets better, Castiel. I promise. This—talking—is the first step." She gave him an encouraging smile. Castiel looked skeptical, but that was okay; in the beginning, Charlie hadn't believed she'd get past it, either.

Sam cleared his throat. "So, you're not linked to Lucifer? Even though he's apparently walking around in a carbon copy of your vessel?"

Castiel shook his head again. "No."

"Maybe him being in Oz hampers the connection?" Sam speculated.

"No, there's nothing." Castiel hesitated, a muscle in his cheek ticking. "I would know."

"Oh, well, that's a relief," Charlie beamed, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Dean, however, narrowed his eyes on the angel. "You're regretting there isn't a connection. Because if there was, you'd have an end game for after Lucifer defeats Amara."

Castiel ducked his gaze.

It took Charlie a moment to figure out what Dean meant, for one of her traumatic memories of shooting poor Clive to flash through her mind, but when it did, she sucked in a sharp gasp.

"You wouldn't," she said to Castiel. Surely after how hard they'd worked to get him back, he wouldn't just turn around and sacrifice himself again? Castiel glanced up briefly, enough for her to see the guilt and shame in his eyes.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean muttered.

"I let him out of the Cage. It's only fitting I fix it."

Dean surged to his feet and away from the bed. "You're doing it again! Not giving a damn how that would affect the rest of us."

Castiel lifted his chin. "You let Sam sacrifice himself."

Dean reeled back as though he'd been struck.

Charlie wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself tightly. She'd known this could be painful, dredging up the worst of one's emotions. She had to remember that talking things out was necessary, and just hoped no one would say something in anger they couldn't take back.

"Cas," Sam spoke up. "We had no other option back then. And yeah, I popped Satan's box the first time, so I felt it was my responsibility to set it right. But I'm also the one who went into the Cage this time. You never would've said yes to Lucifer if you and Dean hadn't come after me."

Castiel shook his head adamantly. "You were tricked, Sam; it wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours, either." He moved closer and took Dean's place on the edge of the bed. "You've been through a lot recently, maybe more than you let on." Sam gave the angel a knowing look that made Castiel fidget. He lowered his voice. "It was my fault what happened to you with Rowena. What happened to Charlie."

Charlie opened her mouth to argue that, but Sam was already pressing on.

"And it seems that there's always another crisis we have to deal with, so we either shelve whatever crap we've got going on, or completely ignore its existence. And it festers. Until one of us does something stupid. Maybe part of it is for the right reasons, but I'm betting there's a good portion in our history where we do something because we think we deserve the fallout."

Sam tossed a rueful look at Dean, whose jaw had clenched in response. Castiel was avoiding eye contact again, and no one was protesting Sam's assessment. Charlie frowned. Oh yeah, these boys could definitely do with some good therapy. Well, guess she would have to be enough.

"I love you all," she blurted, earning three slightly startled gazes. "So before anyone goes taking on any more ancient curses, or dancing with the devil, or sacrificing themselves to save the world…" She roved her gaze over each one of them pointedly. "Remember that I would do anything for you. You're my family, my home. And if something happened to one of you…I would be devastated."

Charlie walked around to the other side of the bed. "That includes you, Castiel."

He tilted his head up to look her in the eye, as though his gaze could see into her soul. Probably did. His eyes, though, wavered with heartfelt gratitude.

Charlie reached out to touch his shoulder. "I found the strength to come back because of _you_ , Castiel. Because I couldn't stand by and not try to save my friend. You think I could have overcome my fears for anything less?"

"You're stronger than you think, Charlie," Castiel said.

"And you mean more to us than you think," she countered.

"Charlie's right," Sam added, also reaching out to grip the angel's forearm. "And whatever's going on with you, Cas, just…let us help."

Castiel flicked an uncertain glance at Dean, and Charlie shot the older Winchester a pointed look.

Dean cleared his throat before moving closer and taking up a position at the foot of the bed so Castiel was bolstered on all sides. "You're not a tool, Cas. You're family, _my_ family. Like Charlie said, I would do anything for you. So don't…don't leave us."

Castiel turned his head to take in each of them, and though his eyes were still haunted by a deep-seated pain, he nevertheless nodded slowly. "I…I'll try to do better."

Charlie smiled. "You won't have to do it alone. We can start by having daily family meetings where we talk about what's going on, openly and honestly."

Dean's face scrunched up. "Uh, how about not?"

Charlie shook her head. "Nope, it's been decreed. Sometimes, you just gotta take the medicine, Dean."

"I did. We talked, shared our feelings; now we're good."

"Dean," Sam put in, giving his brother a wry look. "It's not gonna be that easy."

Charlie started for the door. "I'm gonna go bedazzle a talking stick."

"A what? Hey, Charlie," Dean called warningly, but she was already bounding down the hall and around the corner. " _Charlie_!"

She grinned. It was so good to be home.


End file.
